


The Girl In The Ivy House

by natalie_ana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, James Potter - Freeform, Lily Evans - Freeform, Marauders, Modern AU, jily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 15:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20293957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natalie_ana/pseuds/natalie_ana
Summary: James meets the editor for his book, the only problem is the book is about her. Modern AU.





	The Girl In The Ivy House

His bus every morning drove passed the house and every morning he chose a seat that would have the best view of it. It was a seat at the back of the bus, three rows from the last to be exact and always the window seat.

The house was covered in ivy and curled around double french windows. White paint peeked out from under the leaves and under the first row of windows bright pink flowers bloomed. The house wasn’t very big, two windows with a door jammed between wide and three stories high it sat on a busy corner, a green lamp post at the front.

He couldn’t tell you what drew him to the house, just that he was infatuated with it. Perhaps it was the character the house seemed to possess, as though it had grown out of the ground like the ivy that twined around it. Perhaps he grew more infatuated when a lady with the loveliest shade of auburn red hair exited the front door in a bright mustard skirt that flowed around her easily and effortlessly. She was a wonder! Her hair tumbled in soft waves to her lower back, some sort of mustard scarf keeping her hair off her face. Her skirt matched with a black top reminded him of a bee — even her shoes were black! — only more elegant and beautiful.

She walked down the street, holding her keys and hoped she would be catching the bus. His heart fell when a white Swift’s lights flashed and she walked around to open the car door. The bus drove off before she did but it wasn’t the last time James Potter saw her, nor the last time he thought about her. In fact, she inspired exactly three hundred and twenty-seven pages of words.

* * *

Fuck, she was going to be late. She grabbed the slightly burnt piece of toast out of the toaster and shoved it in her mouth as she grabbed her bag and keys. She was in no more of a rush than usual which would be fine except she was always ten minutes late on a good day. She checked her appearance one last time in the mirror she kept by the door and deemed herself worthy of meeting a new author. She wore white, high-waisted pants with a dusty blue blouse tucked in and nude pumps. Her hair — the reason for being late today — was up in a bun with a white silk scarf tied around it and her make-up was so lightly done, her freckles still showed.

She nodded to herself before yanking her door open, taking the toast out of her mouth so she could actually eat it and heard the satisfying slam of her front door as it locked behind her. She forgot her coat. Fuck. She checked her watch. Nope, no time. She had to leave now if she wanted to prove her life was at least some what put together so ignoring the chill she unlocked her car, hauled her bag across the driver seat and onto the passenger seat before plonking herself down and starting the car.

Traffic was lighter than usual, not light enough that she was on time but light enough that she still only remained ten minutes late and honestly, at this point that was a win.

“Mr Potter’s waiting for you in your office. He arrived only a few minutes ago,” Emma, the receptionist, said as she walked in and she cursed parking. She’d have beaten him here if she hadn’t had to park four blocks down and Mr Potter would have been none the wiser. “I told him you were delayed in a meeting.”

She nodded and shouted a thanks. At least this author that Mary simply raved about would assume that she was a very busy work-driven woman as opposed to someone cursed with chronic lateness.

She entered her office with a smile and an apology. “So sorry to keep you waiting, Mr Potter. Unfortunately I was delayed in a meeting this morning.”

He turned to look at her as she came around her desk and it was only after she’d placed her bag on the floor and sat down that she realised he hadn’t said anything. It was also when she realised that this Mr James Potter was not some old, wise-man poet like she’d imagined but instead a rather attractive, about-her-age looking man, a realisation that had her momentarily speechless as she took him in.

His hair was a mess like a hurricane tore through it only moments ago and yet it suited him and his eyes — his eyes were like the sun. They were a brilliant gold and she was sure he noticed her staring at him but she couldn’t help it. Like the sun, she knew she should look away but she couldn’t find it in her to do it. The brilliant eyes were framed with black framed glasses and his lips were slightly open as though he was in shock about something. He was dressed nicely in jeans and a blazer — formal but not too formal; funny that’s the look she’d been trying to accomplish.

“You’re the girl from the ivy house,” he muttered in wonder and she surely thought she misheard so she asked, “Pardon?”

He seemed to come to and shook his head. “Sorry,” he reached his hand out, “I’m James Potter, you must be Mary MacDonald?”

“Lily Evans actually,” Lily smiled, shaking his hand. “I suppose Emma forgot to send the email. Mary had to join one of her authors on her book tour so I’m handling some of Mary’s authors. You’re one of them. Now, the project was only dropped on me last week so I haven’t read ‘The Girl In The Ivy House’ yet but Mary assures me it is fantastic and I have a date with it on the weekend,” Lily assured. “So today we just needed you to come in to finalise the contracts.”

Mary had in fact been very eager to push this novel onto Lily so much so that when Lily complained that she’d already had too much on her plate, Mary coerced Benjy Fenwick into taking Gilderoy Lockhart off Lily’s plate. Gilderoy Lockhart was the author that sold books and no one could fathom why. He’d been passed around from editor to editor at the firm and this book had been Lily’s turn until Mary had threatened Benjy with the story — something Benjy was terribly embarrassed about and something Mary used to blackmail Benjy for anything she needed in the last two years — and Benjy caved and took Lockhart along with all his frivolities off Lily’s hands. Lily had been left with no choice but to accept Mr Potter and his novel when Marlene had decided she simply couldn’t do this book tour without her editor and best friend.

“Oh, is it normal to switch editors?” he asked.

“It’s not unheard of. Here we try to only do it if needed and only at the start of projects but once a project gets approved by the big guns, it’ll go through no matter what.” Or when someone blackmails someone. “I hope you weren’t too attached to Mary,” Lily said worriedly. “If you really want her to be point editor, I could just start the process and send her the notes. She was quite sorry to have to let you go, so I’m sure she’d be thrilled to take you up again the moment she got back.”

“Oh, er, no, this is just my first book so I’m not really sure how this works — not that I haven’t written other books, I have but, er, this one was the one-“

“That you wanted to publish,” Lily smiled kindly. It was sweet that he was nervous. So many young authors came in here thinking they were the best, most talented, most original person that ever had the pleasure to grace her office. “Everyone has that one,” she assured him.

He paused for a moment. “Is it rude to ask if you’ve edited any popular novels?”

“Of course not! I’m point editor for all of Emmeline Vance’s works.”

“Emmeline Vance?” he choked out. “As in, the woman who wrote the Hodgeden Lake series?”

“I was the first editor to read her manuscript at this firm. Once I read it, I fought so hard for it, so much so that Emmeline requested that I be her point editor despite me only being a junior editor at the time. Did you need any other references?” Lily almost smirked. She loved this routine. The truth was she was the best of the best of what she did at the best of the best firms in the city. She had quite a few high profile novels and authors alike on her belt and she loved not flaunting it but acknowledging it in a professional manner. Okay, maybe she was flaunting but he asked! And he was hot! She had to impress.

“I’d have thought the Hodgeden Lake series and set you up for life. But go ahead.”

“I also work with Dorcas Meadowes, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hestia Jones, Elphias Doge … just to name a few,” Lily said.

“Wow, next you’re going to say Albus Dumbledore.” He glanced up and caught her guilty looking face. “Geez, leave the big guns til last why don’t you?”

She laughed. “I was assistant editor to Minerva McGonagall when he published The Order of The Phoenix.”

“Damn, you have quite the resume, Miss Evans.”

“And I’ve heard you have quite the novel, Mr Potter, so I believe this arrangement will do.”

“I believe so,” he murmured. “Also, it’s James, please. Mr Potter sounds so, er, grown up.”

Lily laughed. “In that case, James, it’s Lily. Now,” she cleared her throat, “Back to the contracts.”

* * *

Was it terrible that he was pretty sure he didn’t hear half of what she said? It was. God, he’s such an arse. He at least hoped she didn’t catch on to his arse-like ways and if she managed to con him out of money he wouldn’t even complain because he was an arse — zoning out mid conversation because she laughed prettily or her hand brushed against his as she handed him a pen. It was pathetic.

He didn’t even know her! Sure, he’d admired her from afar — something she didn’t even know or consent to so that was another tick in the James Potter is an arse column — but he’d never imagined meeting her in real life and now she was his editor. It was all so strange to reconcile in his mind.

He’d seen her so many times over the past few years in all sorts of outfits — he remembered when that mustard skirt made a reappearance a few weeks later — and states. He’d seen her slam the door in a rush, he’d seen her glance in the window of her house to check her appearance before heading off to her car, he’d seen her with a piece of toast between her teeth or a mug of coffee in her hand, he’d seen her wheel her bike out a few times and he’d seen her trip over a crack in the pavement and spill her coffee all over herself. That person seemed very different to the one who had sat in front of him.

The woman that had sat in front of him was a successful editor with not only one but several high profile authors on her resume. She was by all means, accomplished, successful and definitely very, very beautiful in the terrifying way that told him she wasn’t afraid to stab him with her stiletto if the occasion arose.

Of course, part of her appearance had to be a farce. Her receptionist had said she’d been caught up in a meeting but James saw her ten minutes before he arrived leaving her house, piece of toast in her mouth, bag over her shoulder as she let the door slam behind her. She’d started towards her car and then froze, he thought she maybe forgot something and evidently deemed it unworthy because she marched on ahead to her car and then the lights changed and the bus drove off. So unless she was superwoman there was no chance that Lily Evans had been caught up in a meeting. Knowing this, somehow made him like her more.

“How’d it go with the editor?” Sirius asked him as James made his way into their apartment. Sirius made the effort to turn the TV off and sit up to look at James. James wished he hadn’t bothered. Sirius Black was his best mate throughout his entire life but if Sirius ever found out that his editor was the freaking girl in the ivy house, James would be positively done for. He would never hear the end of it and James may as well dig his own bloody grave.

“Ah, good,” he pushed the glasses up his nose, “She’s brilliant.”

“She, huh? She adequate for your girl in the ivy house?” Sirius teased and if James had been drinking water he’d have choked. Oh, god! She was going to read his book! The book who he’s lead female was inspired by the girl in the ivy house but she was the girl in the ivy house. He felt queasy. Trying to collect himself he reasoned. The character was mostly based off of snippets of Lily Evans, there’s no way he nailed her personality so well that she should make the connection. “You okay? She didn’t rip it to shreds, did she?” Sirius asked concerned.

“No — no, she hasn’t read it yet. Today was just about contracts and the likes.”

“O-kay,” Sirius said slowly. “So … is she adequate then?”

James smiled humourlessly. “More than.” He hoped she never made the connection even though he had described her house perfectly down to the last ivy leaf and he also hoped to prolong the amount of time until Sirius made the connection — that was inevitable; Sirius was sharp and James didn’t know if he would have the decorum to keep it together when Sirius meets Lily. “She worked as an assistant editor on Albus Dumbledore’s The Order of the Phoenix and she’s point editor to Emmeline Vance.”

Sirius whistled lowly. “Which book?”

“All of them.”

“Holy fuck,” Sirius said, clearly as impressed as James had been. “This MacDonald has guns.”

It’s Evans, actually. Lily Evans.”

And what a beautiful name for the actual girl in the ivy house, James had thought upon hearing it. Much better than the name he’d given the character in his book. Amelia Hart held no candle to Lily Evans.

“What happened to the other one?”

“Called to a book tour last minute. MacDonald left it to Lily.”

Sirius got up from the couch and opened their fridge and sighed. “I think it’s the pub for dinner again.”

“This would happen less if you just went grocery shopping when it was your turn.”

“But then we’d go to the pub less,” Sirius frowned. “Besides, I already told Remus and Peter, you wouldn’t want to let them down now, would you?”

“I’d like to see it more like saving them from high cholesterol.”

* * *

The Girl In The Ivy House was amazing. It left that feeling in her soul after finishing it, everyone who loved reading knew this feeling. It’s the one where you finish a book but you’ve become so attached so invested that you physically can’t put the book down. You want more even though there is no more to have and the story resonates in your soul. Now depending on the book you may go back and re-read some favourites and Lily found herself doing that now.

Her pages of notes lay forgotten on the coffee table as she read — the book did have it’s flaws but that was to be expected for an unedited book but god half her notes were compliments and pure freaking out.

Her phone buzzed, interrupting her re-reading the moment John Roberts declared in a very bumbling way that he was in love with Amelia Hart. She put the book down and grabbed her phone.  
“Mary! The book is wonderful!” Lily exclaimed immediately.

“You read it already? I thought you were only going to read a few chapters and then grab some stuff for the halloween party?”

Lily shrugged her off. “Halloween is still four weeks away and I just couldn’t put it down! Mary, it’s so, so good! So good that I wouldn’t give the manuscript back to you even if you asked nicely.”  
Mary laughed. “Glad you loved it as much as I did. What did you think of Amelia Hart?”

“Well she’s a red head and you know I love a red haired character.”

“Nepotism at it’s finest,” Mary agreed.

“She’s strong though. Funny, smart, maybe a bit of a pushover but John helps her stand up for herself more and their relationship is just the cutest and the way they met — her hurrying out of the house with toast between her teeth, him bumping into her,” Lily swooned. “It was just, argh, so cute.”

“It’s still got a strong plot despite the romance,” Mary pointed out.

Lily scoffed, “Despite the romance! God, Mary, you’re heartless.”

“And you are a hopeless romantic.”

“The romance was one of the best parts of the novel but the rest of the plot was wonderful too. It’d work just as well without the romance as it did with the romance. But Mary, mark my words this is going to be one of those novels that women everywhere fall over.”

“I’m going to quote you on that when you’re complaining about having to go on a book tour with Potter and it’s just women swooning over the book and you get cranky.”  
“I do not get cranky!”

“You do when there’s no one intelligent to speak too.”  
“Surprised I’m not cranky now then.”

“Oi!”

Despite Mary’s truth, Lily didn’t really think she’d have that problem with James were they to go on a book tour. He seemed, well, she didn’t know how he seemed because he was rather put out by the change of editor, which fair enough. The poor man was probably so overwhelmed, first book and young too. But he didn’t seem the dumb type. Besides, the book was so wonderful that Lily just knew she wouldn’t mind talking with the fans about it.

“You asked for it,” Lily said. “But enough about the book, how’s the book tour? And How’s Marlene? I miss you guys!”

“We’ll be back in town to party for halloween,” Mary assured. “Marlene is simply glowing, I’d say she’s pregnant except the baby is her book and her morning sickness is us getting drunk at the pub every night.”

“So it’s going good then?”

“Good?” Mary laughed. “Everyone loves her and more importantly they love the book! The line in Edinburgh went down the block — we have pictures.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for her! Tell her I say ‘hi’, won’t you?”

“You can tell her now. MARLS, LILY’S ON THE PHONE!” Lily pulled the phone away from her ear at Mary’s shouting, pulling a face.

“Oh! Do you think she’s figured it out yet!”

“Figured what out?” Lily frowned. She hadn’t known there was something to figure out.

“CLUELESS AS A BAT, NOW COME SAY HI!”

There was some rustling, a bang followed by — “You’re such a clutz, Mary!” — “Well, if you just grabbed the thing it wouldn’t have fallen!”

“Hello?”

“Hi, Marly,” Lily grinned.

“Oh, Lily!” Marlene squealed. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in for-e-ver!”

“It’s only been a week,” Lily laughed.

“A week is a long time. Don’t wound me and say you haven’t missed me.”

“Of course, I miss you — definitely more than I miss Mary.”

“OI! I heard that!”

“Does that mean you two finally figured out how to put the phone on speaker, then?”

“Oi!” they both said in unison.

“How’s the book tour, Marls?”

Marlene rattled on about the book tour and the sight seeing they’d managed for the next half hour and Lily listened wishing she had been able to go with them. Lily was never good at self-pity though so when she hung up the phone with a promise to talk soon, Lily decided a thorough mark-up of Potter’s book was as good a distraction as any.

* * *

“I want to start by saying, the book is wonderful. I can see why Mary loves it so much, honestly I think I love it more than she does.”

“But?” James quirked an eyebrow, his heart pounding. This was it. She was going to call him out for being some creepy perv or stalker or both who used her house in a book and styled his lead character after her. She was going to blacklist the book at every publishing house and his career as an author would end before it even begun. He was doomed. Utterly doomed.

“But it needs a lot of work.” He looked up at her. She was smiling kindly at him. “Now, I don’t want you to panic. I read your manuscript over the weekend a few times and I loved it every time.”  
“So why would I panic?”

She pulled the manuscript out of her bag and handed it to him with a pitying smile. He grabbed it and flicked through the pages and, Jesus, there was a lot of red. Every page had a note or a word or phrased underlined, some circled. Paragraphs were scratched out, question marks littered the chapters and words were crossed out. She murdered his baby.

“I see,” he croaked out. God, she’d even murdered his pride and joy — the love declaration.

“Please, don’t be worried. Everyone’s first novel looks like this especially with author’s who have little to no editing experience but that’s what I’m here for. By the time we’re through with this novel, there won’t be one red mark on any of the pages and that is a promise.”

“You sound like Frankenstein.”

“How’s that?”

“You murdered it and now you want to bring it back to life.” He flashed a smile at her to show her that he was only teasing and she chuckled.

“It’ll be better for it, I swear. Editor’s honour,” she saluted.

“So when, uh, when do we start?”

“Today,” Lily announced. “I’m going to go over some plot line issues and hopefully we can figure out a way to flesh them out a little more.”

That’s how the next few weeks went. Early October turned into the week leading to Halloween and they met up at least three times a week. James learnt a lot about her, like the fact that she was always late and her receptionist always lied about it and that she ate almost the same thing every day for lunch.

“It’s a phase,” she’d shrugged when he pointed it out to her. “I have literally zero self control so once I find something I like, I eat it until I become sick of it.”

“That’s almost masochistic.”

“Almost?”

“Well, I assume you don’t, uh, get sexual, er, pleasure from it.”

She bit her lip and looked down. “No, no I don’t.” She looked up and burst out laughing so freely and uninhibited that he couldn’t help laughing himself.

He also learnt that she stuck pens in her hair and when she wore her hair down and she was reading a manuscript, she’d reach for the pen and sigh when it wasn’t there. She had a pretty smile and had started to jokingly call him JP after they’d bonded over how ridiculous Riverdale was but how much they both loved it. She usually arrived to work with a hot chocolate — always from the same place — and she always got another one exactly an hour after lunch. James gathered she was a creature of habit.

“I do plenty of spontaneous things,” she argued when he brought this up.

“Oh, like?”

“Like,” she faltered for a moment, “Like throwing a Halloween party this year.”

“This is the first time you’re throwing a Halloween party?” he asked.

“Well, no. Usually I help host at my friend’s place but this year I’m having it at mine because they’re out of town until tomorrow.”

James nodded slowly. “That’s less spontaneous and more forced to have it at your place because you’re obligated to. Next.”

“I went to Africa my last year of university.”

“Spontaneous trip?”

“Well, no,” she admitted, “We planned it.” She frowned. “Okay, so maybe I’m not a spontaneous person. But I can do something spontaneous right now.”

“Oh?” He hadn’t realised they’d gotten so close on the couch. “What is it then?”

“I hereby invite you and your three idiotic mates that you tell me so much about to my Halloween party and you should come because it is going to be awe-some! A true Lily Evans extravaganza.”

James bit his lip to keep from laughing. “That’s spontaneous to you?”

She shoved him, “Stop laughing at me! It is,” she insisted. “I invited a client and three strangers into my house.”

“So you’ve never had a plumber or an electrician in then?”

She shoved him again. “That’s not the same thing.” She tucked her hair behind her ear before looking back at him and bloody hell she had the most gorgeous green eyes exactly like the ivy that grew around her house and it mesmerised him even more. Lily Evans was quick sand and he was sinking fast. “So will you come then?”

  
Blinking himself out of his daze, he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Wouldn’t miss a Lily Evans extravaganza for the world.”

  
So that’s how he ended up in front of Lily Evans’ house with his three best mates — the three best mates that he’d kept in the dark and who were all staring at the house — dressed as 1930’s detectives, trench coats, cigars and all.

  
“Come on, Prongs!” Sirius whined. “We don’t care about the stupid Ivy House. Let’s get to the party.”

  
“This, uh, this is where the party is,” James winced.

  
“But I thought your editor was throwing the party? And since when do you know Ivy Girl?” Peter questioned, leaning forward to question James.  
James didn’t respond. One of them would get it soon enough and it would be too soon because what would follow was the death of his dignity.

  
Sirius clapped his hands and barked out a laugh. “No!” he exclaimed. “No fucking way!”

  
“What? I don’t get it,” Peter said just as Remus had the look of enlightenment on his face.  
“How do you manage to get yourself into these situations?” Remus mused.

  
“What situations?”

  
“I can’t believe you knew this for weeks!” Sirius clapped James’ shoulder. “Holy mother fucking shit!”

  
“Have you told her?”

  
“No, I rather like having my balls attached, thank you.”

  
“And she hasn’t picked up on it?”

  
“Not that I know and you three will not mention anything of the sort, copy?” He stared them all down sternly.

  
“Wouldn’t even if I could,” Peter muttered still not having caught on.

  
They crossed the street and Sirius whispered, “I wonder if you guessed the floor plan right.”

  
“Shove off.”

  
They rang the door bell and Lily answered herself in a yellow plaid blazer and mini skirt. She looked positively stunning, her red hair was dead straight and her make-up was done up a little more than she did for work so her eyes jumped out at him even more and his heart totally wasn’t beating slightly faster.

  
“ ‘Anything you can do to draw attention to your mouth is good’,” Sirius said and James looked at him bewilderedly.

  
“ ‘Also sometimes you have to show a little skin. This reminds guys of being naked, and then they think of sex’,” Lily said back with a cheeky grin on her face and James felt like he was missing something vital. “I see you’re a Clueless fan then?” she said to Sirius. Ah, that would be it. She’s dressed like Cher from Clueless, obviously. If he hadn’t been to busy with how pretty she looked he’d have made the connection.

  
“Chick flicks are my guilty pleasures. Love the costume.”

  
“You’ll love my friends then. Clueless, Mean Girls and Legally Blonde.”

  
“Clearly, we didn’t get the memo. But I believe we haven’t been properly introduced.”

  
James snorted. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to quote more chick flicks at her. Lily, my mates, Peter, Remus and Sirius. Guys, this is Lily Evans, my editor.”

  
Suddenly, Remus coughed loudly, “And inspiration.” James nudged him in the ribs.

  
“Well come on in guys, now you didn’t RSVP but I can totally haul ass to the kitchen to re-arrange a few things. The more the merrier.”

  
“It doesn’t say RSVP on the Statue of Liberty,” James said back as they walked in and then Sirius leaned in, “Damn, you did get the floor plan wrong.”

  
“So the party’s out back,” Lily said guiding them passed her kitchen and through to the living room, people loitering the couches and furniture, where large french doors lead to a decently sized courtyard where the party was in full swing. The courtyard was decorated for halloween with carved pumpkins on the tables and fake spiders and cobwebs adorning the plants she had around the place. A wooden structure that covered the majority of the courtyard with — you guessed it — ivy twining around it had fairy lights wrapped around it and skull lanterns and bat cut outs hung above their heads. In one corner there was a human sized, open coffin standing against the wall with a fake head stone.

  
“The photo station,” Lily said proudly. “You can stand in that and you can write your name on the head stone with the chalk. Drinks are over by the barbecue in the eskis, Benjy will serve you anything you want as long as it’s cooked first and these are my friends, Regina George and Elle Woods, also known as Mary and Marlene. Girls, this is James Potter and his mates, Sirius, Peter and Remus.”

  
“Ah, the one that got away,” Mary sighed. “Lily keeps flaunting your novel in front of me.”

  
“Well then you shouldn’t have given it away,” Lily said easily.

  
“Blame Marlene,” Mary told James.

  
James turned to Marlene, a petite blonde with big blue eyes and long hair. “You’re the author on the book tour I gather.”

  
“That would be me and you would be Lily’s latest, favourite author.”

  
“She has a favourite authors?”

  
Marlene rolled her eyes, “They all do but it changes all the time.”

  
“Except for Lockhart!” Mary shouted. “We all hate that bastard.”

  
James whistled lowly, “What’d he do?”

  
“It’s not so much what he did as about who he is as a person,” Mary said. “Never be Gilderoy Lockhart.”

  
“He’s Lily’s favourite, there’s literally zero chance that he’s anything like Gilderoy Lockhart.”

  
“Yeah but Lily’s biased. She has to like him.”

  
James coughed, “Er, why’s that?”

  
The two girls looked at each other. “Well, your book’s lead female is a red head and lives in an ivy house.”

  
James was glad he didn’t have a drink yet because he’s sure he would have choked on it. “Yeah, funny coincidence that.” His voice came out a little high pitched and he wanted to lock himself in the coffin and never come out. If he paid Sirius fifty bucks Sirius would bury him too.

  
Lily was his saviour when she called him over to the drinks station, “What do you drink?”

  
“Scotch and coke is good.”

  
“I hope Mary and Marlene didn’t grill you too much. They’re a bit over the top sometimes, actually all the time.”

  
James laughed, “No, they were fine. Speaking of mates, where are my degenerate ones?”

  
Lily gestured with her head. “Apparently they know the twins.”

  
“You know, Gid and Fab?”

  
“Yeah, you?”

  
“Went to high school together. It’s been a while though.”

  
Lily handed James his drink and they clinked glasses before taking a sip and James nodded in approval. “Is there even any coke in this?”

  
“Maybe like a drop,” Lily winked.

  
“So your house is pretty great.”

  
Lily beamed. “Thank you! It’s honestly like my pride and joy.”

  
James laughed. “Did it come with the ivy?”

  
“If half dead counts.”

  
“Green thumb then,” James said impressed.

  
“Named after a flower it’d be ironic if I wasn’t but now that you know a hobby of mine, you have to tell me one of yours.”

  
“Does reading count?”

  
“No.”

  
“Okay, then, I, uh, I sketch, sometimes paint but mostly sketches.”

  
“What do you sketch then?”

  
“Mostly scenes from my books or if something is worth sketching. Whatever fancies me from time to time.”

“Oh, do you have sketches for The Girl in the Ivy House? Because if you do, maybe something would work for the book cover.”

  
Fuck. He had so, so many sketches but she couldn’t see them because she’d see her house and, bloody hell, her. He’d got a few things wrong like the colour of her eyes and the soft freckles on her nose and cheeks but the shape of her face, her features it was all close enough, too close. Especially the house. The house was almost leaf for fucking leaf.

  
“Oh, writing the book wasn’t enough, I have to draw the cover too,” he joked and she grinned.

  
“At Gryffindor Publishers we like our authors to earn their keep.”

  
Suddenly, someone was calling for Lily’s attention and with a quick apology she was off leaving James to find his mates. The party was as good as any, pretty laid back with a laptop plugged into a set of speakers where anyone could go up and play a song. It was a nice setting, James mused to himself, sort of like sitting at a bar except with food and free alcohol.

  
An hour passed since he’d last spoken with Lily but he’d caught glimpses of her, glimpses that had his stomach jumping. She’d either be having a drink with mates or going around with a garbage bag to collect stray plates and cups or she’d be refreshing the chip bowls. She was everywhere, a vibrant woman with a bubbling personality making sure everything was running as it was supposed to.

  
He approached her, after taking several round of shots with his mates and possibly on a dare from Remus but she was so pretty and lovely that he found himself walking over to her without too much prompting. She was sitting with a guy, a guy who looked at her knowingly before standing up to give James his seat and James took it without thought, leaning close to her and, “You’re really pretty.”

  
“You’re really drunk,” she grinned back.

  
“That’s what you think.”

  
“Oh, so you’re only pretending to be drunk!”

  
James nodded. “How else am I to say really inappropriate things to my editor? The girl in the ivy house,” he murmured.

  
She looked down, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I guess I am a girl in an ivy house.” She didn’t get it but that was okay, maybe one day she would and everything would fall into place. “But telling your editor she’s pretty isn’t exactly an offence. In fact, I’d say it’s a smart move.”

  
“Definitely not smart,” James assured her.

  
“Why’s that?”

  
“Well, it’d be smart if I were saying it to butter you up, you know so you’d go easier on my book — the one you seem so intent on murdering — but I’m not.”

  
“Why are you saying it then?”

  
They were incredibly close, too close and this was so very inappropriate but he didn’t care. “I’m saying it because it’s true and I think I’d,” he stopped. He couldn’t say it, could he?

  
“You think you’d?” she prompted, her deep green eyes staring so intently into his own and he melted and he could, he could, he could because he had to.

  
“I think I’d rather like to kiss you.”

  
She leaned in closer and his heart had surely stopped beating and she said, her lips so close to his ear he could feel her breath, “You know, I’m quite drunk too.”

  
“Are you now?”

  
“Drunk enough that I let my incredibly fit client tell me I’m pretty.”

  
James laughed softly, reaching his hand out to smooth a piece of her hair and their faces were an inch apart. “Drunk enough to let me kiss you?”

  
She didn’t answer but the look she gave him was answer enough. He leaned in closer, shutting his eyes. They were so close his entire body was tingling with anticipation and —

  
“LILY!” They were interrupted by a bunch of her mates who had apparently taken this moment to decide that it would be a lovely time to take photos. They jumped apart. James ran a hand through his hair and Lily looked at him apologetically but he just smiled softly and said, “Go on, then.”

  
With one last look she left him to join her friends and he watched for a few minutes before being joined by Marlene and Mary.

  
“So how was it almost kissing the girl in the ivy house?”

  
He doubted they’d figured it out if Lily hadn’t and if they had surely they’d tell her so he shrugged off their comment as being funny and so he was back to talking with Marlene and Mary — more like he’d been cornered by them but they were hilarious so he didn’t quite mind — when he noticed Lily having an intense conversation with a guy. He looked like he was hopped up on drugs and his hair was long and shiny in the greasy way and Lily looked like she’d rather be dealing with anything else.

  
“Who’s Lily talking to?” James asked before considering the reasons he shouldn’t be asking.

  
Marlene and Mary turned to look and they both scowled sharing a mutual look of dislike. “I believe she’s talking to trash reincarnated as a human being,” Mary responded.

  
“Who is he?”

  
“An ex-friend,” Marlene said. “Best leave her to it. We just make him more difficult to deal with.”

  
They tried to engage him in conversation again and he was only half listening, his eyes kept flickering back to Lily and he was growing more concerned by the second. Lily looked right pissed off and he looked persistent. Lily turned to walk away and James excused himself from Mary and Marlene without even realising as the man grabbed Lily’s arm to stop her from walking away.  
He was there within seconds, just enough time to hear her say, “Let go, you’re hurting me!”

  
“Is everything okay?” James asked in a loud voice and Lily turned sharply to look at him.

  
“James,” she breathed in relief. The man looked between James and Lily and apparently did not like whatever he saw.

  
“And who are you? This is a private matter.”

  
“He’s…” Lily trailed off and James almost laughed. Yeah, that was complicated. Instead he stepped forward and said firmly, “A friend. I think you should let go of her arm now.”

  
The man obviously thrown off by James’ presence looked at Lily uncertainly.

  
“Let go of me, Snape, and leave. Before I call the police.” His grip seemed to have slackened enough for she pulled her arm out of his grip and stepped back towards James.

  
“Please, Lily,” Snape pleaded.

  
“No, stop asking me for chances! I have none left to give. Now, get out of my house.”

* * *

Lord help her she was falling for him. First, he sent her into another universe with his stupid, messy, black curls and eyes like the freaking sun. Second, he wrote a book about a red head in an ivy house and though unintentional, it hit all her freaking soft spots and made her wonder if he found red heads attractive which lead her down the path of did he find her attractive. Third: He. Was. Freaking. Adorable. And she knew that ‘adorable’ was a weird term to give to a man but fuck that because he was and she didn’t find it in the least bit unattractive. In fact, she found it quite the opposite. Like when he offered to get her lunch and knew her order by heart and when he sat nervously watching her as she read a revised part of his novel. There were, of course, more, like when he gave her his umbrella cause she’d forgotten hers and how he talked about his mates and the way he showed off pictures of his ginger cat, Snaps.

  
And now, lord give her strength, now he was calling her pretty to her face and almost kissing her and saving her from actual trash bag Severus Snape and she didn’t think her soul could survive because she was falling for him. She only hoped that he didn’t think she was complicated because of Snape. Snape had been her best friend once upon a time, something he ruined years ago with his controlling behaviour and tendency to get caught up in gang violence. He still came around every so often, asking for a second chance like a fly you had to keep swatting away but she hoped James didn’t think it was anything more because she liked him a lot and she really wanted him to like her back.

  
She contemplated this staring up at the ceiling in the centre of her bed wondering about the audacity of it all with the white quilt wrapped firmly around her to keep out the chill coming through the window — yes, she was one of those people who liked the room cold only so she could wrap herself up in blankets, apparently it’s called a coping mechanism for lonely people but honestly you could pry blankets out of Lily’s cold dead hands. She wondered if James was a blanket person because it’d be bad if he wasn’t. Or maybe that would be a good thing. It’d mean she’d get all the blankets when they … oh holy mother of God she was spiralling.

  
Her door slammed open scaring her into next year and she turned her head only to hide under the blankets at the sight of Marlene and Mary.

  
“Oi, don’t hide from us!”

  
“Yeah we want the gossip!”

  
“And we have mimosas!”

  
“But only so we can hear the gossip!”

  
“Like what happened with Snape!”

  
Lily groaned.

  
“And what happened with James!” Marlene said with a suggestive voice and Lily groaned even louder but she peeked an eye out from under her covers. Mary and Marlene, true to their word, were holding mimosas and if Lily weren’t in a spiral of despair and embarrassment she’d have sat up to take hers.

  
“It wasn’t, like, noticeable was it?”

  
“The fact that you two almost kissed?” Mary offered before continuing, “Only to people who weren’t looking.”

  
Lily groaned so loud that her neighbours might think she were dying and call 9-9-9. “Kill me now.” She hid back under her covers and Mary and Marlene sat on either side of her.

  
“Come on, it’s not so bad.”

  
“Yeah,” Mary agreed. “He’s really fit.”

  
“And he fancies the pants off you.”

  
“And he writes! You’ll be like that author-editor power couple that’ll be famous and do interviews on Graham Norton together and everyone will ship you.”

  
“You read too much fanfiction,” Lily grumbled.

  
“There’s no such thing as too much fanfiction, Lily, be reasonable,” Marlene scoffed.

  
Lily considered and then, “The only good thing about this Halloween party is that now that it’s over-“

  
“Oh god no — don’t—”

  
“Christmas season can finally commence.”

  
“Say it,” Mary finished in a sigh. “Jesus, Lily. Halloween only ended ten hours ago. You could give it a day to jump into christmas festivities.”

  
“Planning,” Lily corrected. “Festivities start on the first of December. No sooner, no later.”

  
“Uh huh,” Mary said. “You and your christmas obsession, I will never understand.”

  
Lily just rolled her eyes at their lack of appreciativeness for her christmas enthusiasm.

  
“I think she only mentioned christmas so she wouldn’t have to talk about a certain man starting with James and ending with Potter.”

  
Lily scowled. “We’re just friends.”

  
“Just friends don’t almost kiss.”

  
“We were incredibly drunk.”

  
“You keep telling yourself that.” She would, thank you, Marlene.

  
“Look, James and I would never work anyways because despite Mary’s fanfic esque love story, it’s very frowned upon to hook up with a client. It could completely botch up the success of his novel and I don’t want that for him. The Girl In The Ivy House is a wonderful book and it deserves my full attention.”

  
“Uh huh and when you realise that this is twenty-eighteen and there’s hardly such thing as a forbidden romance much less between an author and editor, come talk to us,” Marlene said. “Come on, just admit you fancy him!”

  
“It wouldn’t matter anyways! I mean, I don’t think he has a girlfriend but he’s dedicated the book to ‘the girl in the ivy house’ which means there’s a girl out there somewhere who inspired that novel. That novel that has one of the most romantic, deep loves I’ve ever read about. So clearly he’s hung up about someone — about the girl who inspired that. There’s no way I could compete against that and I shouldn’t have to.”

  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Mary muttered before mumbling something that Lily didn’t quite catch.

  
“Mary!” Marlene whisper hissed.

  
“Oh I know!”

  
“Know what?”

  
“Nothing,” they both said together and Marlene continued. “Honey, have you actually asked him about that girl? The girl in the ivy house?”

  
“No, I don’t know,” Lily sighed, “It just seems really personal and I don’t particularly like being nosy about author’s muses or inspirations or whatever.”

  
“Right. Well, instead of moping about just-friends James, go get dressed. We’ve got a massive clean-up to do downstairs and you have a mimosa to drink.”

Lily groaned and furrowed further under her blankets so much she might have suffocated herself.

  
November passed without any major hiccups. Her and James pretended like the kiss had never happened — which suited Lily just fine and confirmed her suspicions that he was hung up over some other girl — and though they fought over the novel she knew it just meant she was doing her job. No novel ever became great without blood, sweat and tears and tears there were when Lily told him he needed to modify the love declaration part.

  
“But-”

  
“Not the dialogue,” Lily said hastily, “Just the other bits and — oh my god, are you crying?!”

  
“Shut up, it’s been a long day and I’m very attached.” Lily bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Oi! Don’t laugh!”

  
She bit her lip and, “Okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” But she couldn’t and laughter bubbled out of her mouth before she could clamp her hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I just,” she would’ve finished but she dissolved in laughter.

  
“Lily Evans.”

  
“James …. Potter,” she tried to mimic but failed due to laughter. “Oh, lord, I’m sorry — I can’t … seem to stop.”

  
“I can see that,” he replied dryly.

  
Lily ended up shouting him lunch to say sorry even though he was being a prat about it and, “I can pay for my own lunch, Evans.”

  
November also saw a lot of christmas planning on Lily’s behalf and when she walked into the office after her lunch hour with two bags filled with Christmas decorations that were defined more aptly as glitter explosions waiting to happen, James’ mouth dropped open in surprise.

  
“Holy shit, Evans.”

  
She jumped, glitter snowing off the sprays that were sticking out the tops of one of the bags and littering the floor. “Damn it, James, what are you doing here?” She walked to her desk placing the bags on the table and turned to face him. He was maybe slightly too close to her but she didn’t find she minded when it gave her the perfect opportunity to stare at his sun-filled eyes — she could honestly look at them all day.

  
“I’m stuck on a part for the book and is that Christmas things?” He snatched the bags off of her and she huffed.

  
“Yes.”

  
“But Christmas is ages away!”

  
“It’s the last week of November!” Lily argued, “And I have a big place that requires a lot of decorating. Besides, decorations have to go up December first.” Besides, it was the start of her three year rotation. Silver and red were out and gold, blue and white were in. She had a whole new theme to shop for this year.

  
“Do they though?” He started digging through her bags and she scowled as he pulled things out, shaking glitter all over her desk and effectively getting it in his hair when he couldn’t seem to help running his hands through it.

  
“Come here,” she said, “You’ve glitter in your hair.” She giggled when he bent his head down and asked her to do the honours. She scrubbed his hair with her hands watching the glitter fall out and declared, “There you go! You’ve sex hair.”

  
“Please, Evans, I was born with sex hair, don’t flatter yourself. But seriously, do you really need this much decorations? And do you really decorate on December first? I feel like christmas decorating is something done half arsed.”

  
“Yes! It’s tradition.”

  
“An expensive one at that.” He said pulling out a box of christmas lights. “Bloody hell, Evans, you paid fifty quid for this? And you bought five! You know this stuff all gets marked down a week before christmas?”

  
Lily scoffed, “And end up with five different sets of lights or god forbid colourful ones,” she shook her head. “You’ve seen how tall my house is. Besides, I’m a member at the store and I got fifteen percent off anyways.”

  
“Wait, these are going on the outside? Lily, you can’t put these up by yourself.”

  
Lily shrugged. “I do it every year. It looks so pretty against the ivy and you can’t just do half a house.”

  
“Lily, your place is three stories high! You can’t!”

  
She raised a brow. “Do you wanna get up on the ladder then? It’s not so bad, the balcony on the third floor makes it easy enough.”

  
“What the hell do you need so many bauble hooks for? Don’t tell me your tree is like five meters high or something,” he said, pulling out the three packets of bauble hooks she’d bought and then, “You did not buy Christmas tea towels and, oh my god, napkins.”

  
“They’re cute! Look at the little reindeers stitched on it!” Lily’s hand brushed against his as she went to turn the napkins over and she felt that skip in her heart but pushed it down. He was teasing her about her christmas decorations. She needed to stay on point. “And no my tree isn’t five meters high. They’re for the lights, how else are they supposed to stay up on the ivy?”

  
“Okay but were christmas themed stuffed animals necessary?” he asked pulling out a stuffed reindeer.

  
“For the couch, duh,” she said. “And the guest bedrooms. Mary and Marlene stay over during christmas.”

  
“Is that because they want to make sure you don’t get buried underneath a mountain of christmas decorations. I mean, seriously, Evans, five rolls of wrapping paper?”

  
“You’re teasing me now but I throw one hell of a christmas. There’s a reason christmas is at mine every year.”

  
“Is it because it looks like Santa threw up on your house?”

  
She nudged him, “Be nice. Now, enough about my christmas decorations and — hey! Give me that!” she snatched the reindeer ears off his head and shoved them back in one of the bags whilst he sniggered. “Now, what part are you stuck on for your book? I’ve got another client coming in soon.”

  
He placed his hand on his heart, “Cheating on me, Evans? That hurts.”

  
“Actually, he’s my husband and you’re the affair and we only have five minutes so you better make it quick.”

  
“On the table or on the couch?”

  
She held back a grin and groaned, “Jaaaames!” He really was going to be the death of her.

  
Instead of trying to squeeze the problem into five minutes, James came back an hour later which turned into a late night at the office with an Uber Eats delivery from the awesome burger place ten minutes from the office. Dinner turned into talking which ended up with Lily somehow inviting James over to help her decorate her house for Christmas.

  
“You’re just using me so you don’t die falling off a ladder.”

  
“You caught me,” Lily admitted.

  
Her whole body tensed when she heard the doorbell ring on December first at exactly nine o’clock in the morning. He was here and on time to help her decorate for christmas. A holiday that he prepared for very last minute otherwise. She jumped up off the couch and headed for the door, checking her outfit, a christmas sweater — something else you could pry out of her cold dead hands — and skinny jeans with sneakers. Her hair flowed around her shoulders in soft, natural curls and a hair elastic was at the ready on her wrist for later.

  
She pulled open the door and he stood with his hands in his coat pockets, hair sticking out from under a beanie with his chin tucked into a scarf that was wrapped snug around his neck. Adorable, Lily thought and there was that word again.

  
“Hey,” she grinned before stepping aside, “Come in.”

  
“Christmas sweater already, Evans?” he asked her as he walked in.

  
Lily shook her head. “By the time we’re done, I’m going to inject Christmas spirit into your very soul.”

  
“If I don’t die on a ladder first.”

  
“Those are the only two options,” Lily warned.

  
“So where are these infamous decorations?”

  
Lily wasted no time leading him to the back sitting room where five boxes, three large bags and a very large tree sat. “Ta da,” she said gesturing to her decorations.

  
“We really are going to be doing this all day,” James seemed to realise.

  
“Have no fear,” Lily assured. “I’ve got alcohol and I’ve set up a playlist with a mixture of Christmas songs and normal songs.”

  
“Oh, thank god for the alcohol!”

  
“And there is a very good chance of baking christmas cookies at the end of the decorating.”

  
“Food and alcohol, say no more.”

  
They started with the exterior lights and it was tedious business but they made the time pass, telling jokes and exchanging Christmas stories. Lily found herself very much in trouble because he was wonderful. He was out here attaching lights to ivy via bauble hooks for her and he spoke of his parents with such fondness that it was making her heart melt.

  
“So are you going to your parents place for Christmas?”

  
“Well, I’ll be there in the morning to open presents but their present this year is a surprise trip to Canada so after that I’m hauling their arses to the airport and bon voyage for them. Then my mates and I will get drunk in the attic whilst watching bad Christmas movies and playing games.”

  
“Sounds delightful.”

  
“And what about you? No doubt there’s an itinerary lying around inside somewhere,” he teased.

  
“Well, it’s Mary, Marlene and I in the morning to open presents then we prepare a Christmas lunch together and a few mates will arrive at around one, usually. Then it’s eat, clean-up, drink, and board games before a dinner consisting of leftovers from lunch and maybe a bad christmas movie or two.”

  
James laughed. “Of course. You don’t go home for Christmas?”

  
Lily shook her head. “Not since my sister got married. Her husband and I don’t agree on, well, anything and my sister would throw a fit if my parents decided not to host to visit me and it would end in chaos if I attended — it’s been proven — so I do my own thing here with my friends and I go and visit my parents in January for a week.”

  
“I’m sorry … about your sister. Sirius has a brother and they’ve got a complicated relationship so I know how much it sucks.”

  
She turned her head to face him. He was about three meters away from her, they were starting from the bottom and working their way up and it was sunny this morning so his skin glowed nicely, a sort of tanned colour. He flashed a soft smile at her and there it went again, that fluttery feeling in her gut. “Thank you,” she said and turned back to pressing the little hooks shut around the ivy and string of lights — it was tedious work but it’d be worth it if only to get James Potter’s life story out of him.

  
“What about you? No siblings?”

  
He shook his head, “Nah, it’s just me and my parents. They had me really late, they thought they couldn’t have kids and then I came along when my parents were in their mid forties. They were comfortable with money so they both retired and put all their energy into me.”

  
“Glad to hear you weren’t spoiled as a child,” Lily teased.

  
“Only every five seconds,” James assured and she laughed. “No but seriously, my parents were — are wonderful. They gave up their whole lives to look after me and not once did they complain or regret it, neither of them ever attempted to go back to work,” he shook his head, “They were just happy to stay at home and raise me together. Then when Sirius — he has a lot of family drama but it got so bad when we were about fifteen or sixteen that he ran away and my parents, they, uh, took him in without a second thought — legally adopted him and everything. Not a lot of people would do that, especially considering the amount of trouble Sirius and I managed to get up to back in the day.”

  
“They sound like terrific people,” Lily complimented and meant it. They sounded the complete opposite of her sister.

  
“They are, of course, since I was spoiled as a child, my parents, my mum especially, likes to knock me down a few pegs whenever she gets the chance but it’s mostly in good jest. Her and Sirius have a competition.”

  
“Must be why your head doesn’t seem too inflated now.”

  
“I’ll let her know that her insults have been working. She’ll be so pleased.”

  
“Are you — are your parents from England? I mean you have an English last name and accent but your complexion isn’t like Casper the ghost so I was wondering if maybe you’re from southern Europe or something?”

  
“My mum’s family is Greek though she was born and raised in England and my dad is half Egyptian from his mother’s side — my grandma, I suppose though I never got to meet her.”

  
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

  
James shrugged. “My parents being older meant that my grandparents were really old. Only my grandfather from my mum’s side is still alive — old bugger is ninety-six.”

  
“Wow, my grandparents are all still kicking in their seventies.”

  
James smiled, “What about you? Are you English through and through?”

  
“Nowhere near as interesting as yours but my grandparents from my mum’s side are actually Scottish — they have the accent and everything but they moved to Surrey just after they got married so my mum missed out on the accent. My dad’s mum is from Ireland and his dad is from Wales both migrated to London where they met and got married before moving out to Surrey where mum and dad went to school together.”

  
“So you are English through and through.”

  
“English as they come,” Lily agreed. “Do your parents follow any Greek or Egyptian traditions?”

  
“Well, I was baptised Greek Orthodox — it was important to my mum — so every Easter we follow the Greek tradition.”

  
“Which is?” Lily prompted.

  
“Well, there’s church at nine p.m. Where we walk around the block of the church to symbolise Jesus’ walk to his death and then church again Saturday night at midnight, followed by a midnight feast at home and then a Sunday barbecue. I’m not super religious but I do like the tradition of it.”

  
“It sounds nice,” Lily said. “My family don’t even meet up for Easter anymore — or any holidays really — but Easter was never a big thing in my family. None of us are religious.”

  
“Eh, sometimes I feel like a fake,” James shrugged.

  
“A fake for what?”

  
“Going to church,” James shrugged, “I don’t know. I’ve not really believed in God in a long time so going sometimes makes me feel like a fraud but I do like the tradition of going, it’s nice seeing people I grew up with at church, everyone’s dressed up with candles — every year without fail at least one woman’s hair catches on fire — and it’s just, I don’t know, nice. It’s something I’d like to do with my own kids, one day.”

  
“It sounds like quite the event … and I’m done on my side.”

  
James’ jaw dropped, “How?”

  
“You must be forgetting I do this every year. I’ll go grab the ladders from the back whilst you finish up.”

* * *

The lights outside took them until noon and bloody hell was he glad when they got inside and flopped themselves down onto the nearest seat. His fingers felt numb from the chill and if it weren’t for all the talking they were doing, he was sure his teeth would’ve fallen out from chattering so much.

  
“I can’t believe you do that every year,” James groaned.

  
“It’s worth it and don’t start complaining, we’ve still got the tree and garlands to put up in here.” At least there was a heater.

  
James groaned. This woman was crazy, that’s all there was to it. She was a Christmas obsessed, book nerd who was crazy and yet he could see this in his future. How insanely happy he’d be to hang Christmas lights on ivy every year if he was doing it with her.

  
They had an hour break in which they made some lunch and sat at her kitchen table eating and talking and when it was time to get to it again they started with the tree, moving around some of the furniture in her front living room so the tree could sit in front of the window. They started hanging up the different baubles and ornaments and she hit his hand — a lot — when he was doing something wrong and there was a lot of playful shouting and laughter and banter.

  
It had just gone passed five when Lily deemed the house finished and James thought it was like Santa and all his elves themselves came to decorate — he had to admit, Lily had a knack for it. Garlands hung from her curtain rods and deer and Santa statues littered the tables. Her tree looked straight out of a winter wonderland with the amount of fake snow they’d sprayed on it and the royal blue and baby blue baubles that decorated its branches.

  
“It’ll be dark enough to see the lights on outside soon,” Lily said peering out the front window. “Do you — would you like to stay? For dinner?”

  
He wanted to so he did. They ended up in front of Lily’s TV watching a movie on Netflix with a bowl of pasta each and a blanket each and it was perhaps one of the best nights James could remember in a while.

  
He was stopping by the office almost every day now and it was hard to tell anymore if it was because of his book or because of her. Of course, they worked on the book whenever he was at her office but they bantered and talked so much, it was hard to tell, hard to even think of it as work. Surely work shouldn’t be this fun? No one looked forward to going to work. At least that’s what Sirius told him but he did. He loved going to work to work on his book with Lily. The reckoning was close by and he knew that. By the end of January at the latest, the book would be finished — truly finished and then it would be all about the cover and the blurb and release dates and a book tour and there’d be no more Lily.

  
But that didn’t have to be true. They texted sometimes and he’d been to her house, they were friends right? He could still see her after his book was done. He had to.

  
“Just ask her out already,” was Sirius’ stellar advice and under normal circumstances, he would’ve fumbled his way through asking her out weeks ago but she was his editor and he didn’t want to make things awkward with a relationship. His book deserved the best and he wasn’t going to jeopardise that for anything, not even the prettiest, smartest and funniest woman he’d ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on.

  
Christmas came and he was insanely giddy when she handed him a present and said, “It’s not a big deal,” but she’d gotten him a limited edition, signed copy of Albus Dumbledore’s The Order of The Phoenix and it was one of his favourite presents ever and he was excited to even get a present at all from her because it meant that it was okay to give her his present. She sent him a message christmas morning, ‘I loooove the necklace! Thank you so much! Xx’ . He grinned stupidly at his phone for so long his mother started teasing him, helped along by Sirius of course. His mistake was his reply. ‘It reminded me of the first time I saw you’.

  
‘Why does a bee remind you of when we met???’

  
Crap. He screwed up because the first time he saw her, she reminded him of a bee, dressed head to toe in black and mustard but the first time they met she’d been wearing white and blue — very unlike a bee in any case. The necklace, you would have guessed by now, features a petite, gold and black bee on a gold chain. There was no way to pass this off. He had to tell her now so even though they were supposed to be on holidays until January third, he asked if they could meet up after Christmas and she agreed.

  
He fought over how to explain it in a way that didn’t make him sound crazy for three nights before he found himself standing in front of her at a park. She was bundled up in a grey coat and a blush woollen scarf and she wore black gum boots over skinny jeans. She was the perfect picture of winter and she was smiling at him.

  
“Hi,” he said.

  
“Hey,” she said back, with a small smile and his heart stuttered when he realised she was wearing his necklace, it peeked out from under her scarf.. “You okay?”

  
“Fine, there’s just, uh, something I need to tell you.”

  
“Okay,” she said unsurely. “What is it?”

  
He breathed in deeply. She’d never want to talk to him after this. He sounded like a stalker. “It’s about the first time I saw you.” Lily’s brow furrowed. “You were wearing a mustard skirt with a black top and shoes and you had a mustard scarf wrapped around your head.”

  
“But — I wasn’t wearing that when we met.”

  
“My bus, every morning, drives pass your house. The first time I noticed you was about two and a half years ago. It was summer and it didn’t take me long to start writing after that.” He paused and then, “Lily, you are the girl in the ivy house. The house … Amelia Hart … they were both inspired by you and your house and I know that that sounds creepy but please just let me get the story out before you decide I’m some creep that you never want to see again.”

  
She didn’t say anything so he took it as his cue to continue.

  
“The first time that I saw you, I was mesmerised. You were the picture of perfect in that outfit in front of that house and you were a mystery. I kept seeing you after that first time and it wasn’t like it was on purpose or anything — I’m not a stalker — but I would be looking out the window and there you would be, leaving your house and it became, I don’t know, routine to look out for you and then I started getting the idea for the novel and it kept growing and growing and so I wrote The Girl In The Ivy House and I sent it out and I heard back from the firm, a Mary MacDonald was interested in editing my book. So after a drunken night of celebrating with my mates and toasting to the girl in the ivy house for giving me the inspiration I needed, I went to meet Mary MacDonald except she walked through the door and it wasn’t Mary. It was the girl in the ivy house and I swear I died in that moment and then you introduced yourself as Lily Evans.”

James ran a hand through his hair. “And you are, you’re more than I ever could’ve imagined and I l-” Her eyes snapped to his when he stopped but he couldn’t go there … not yet and maybe not ever. “You are amazing and brilliant and smart and you’re my editor and I know I should’ve told you but getting this book published, getting a book published, has been my dream since forever and I didn’t want to — I couldn’t risk that but I completely understand if you never want to talk to me again but please don’t pull the plug on the book. I — we’ve worked way to hard to let something like this ruin it.”

  
They stood in the park facing each other. The cold breeze nipped at their faces and James wished she would say something, anything even if it was to yell at him. Something would be better than nothing but nothing was all he got because before he could even say another word, she turned and left.

  
He got the message loud and clear.

* * *

Lily re-read the book three times and came to the sole conclusion that she couldn’t have inspired that. She just couldn’t have. The love in the book between Amelia Hart and Danny King, it was an epic worthy of Romeo and Juliet and The Notebook. She wouldn’t be surprised if one day it was classed as a great romance novel and she couldn’t have inspired that and yet, now that she knew, she saw it.

  
The house had the same windows, the same front door and Amelia’s descriptions could aptly fit Lily except the eyes, he got her eyes wrong — blue instead of green but she supposed he’d never seen her up close when writing the book. Amelia had some of her mannerisms too. Like shoving a piece of toast in her mouth as she left the house and letting the front door slam behind her and, oh lord how she didn’t notice this before she’ll never understand but Amelia pressed her car keys twice to unlock the car so the lights flashed four times. How many times has Lily done that? Every day for years. The mustard skirt and black top was an outfit Amelia wore for the meet cute, the outfit James said was the first one he’d noticed her in.

  
Her head spun for days at this knowledge because she couldn’t believe that she’d inspired The Girl In The Ivy House. She wasn’t any special, she wasn’t interesting or particularly important. She was great at her job and at growing plants and flowers, that was it on her list of accomplishments otherwise she was just a single woman, living on her own who contemplated buying a cat every time she walked passed a pet store. For god’s sake, her own sister couldn’t stand her, why would someone who didn’t even know her write a book inspired by her? She was loud and ate the same thing for lunch for months at a time and she ate way too much chocolate at midnight. She wasn’t book-inspiring material. She just wasn’t.

  
“I think she figured it out,” Marlene said to Mary as Lily spewed a non-coherent rant at them, drunk.

  
“Figured it out?” Lily sharpened up. “YOU KNEW!”

  
A few people turned to look. “Shush, woman! You’ll get us kicked out of the bar and of course we knew! Why do you think I gave you the book?”

  
“You — you knew,” Lily said astounded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  
“Well, I didn’t think you were dense!” Mary defended.

  
“Oi!”

  
“Come on, Lily! At one point in the novel, Amelia drops a box on the floor and kicks it with her foot to the car.”

  
“So?”

  
“Oh my God, you’re thick,” Marlene breathes. “The time you cleaned out your closet and had a box full of old crap that sat by your door for two months and-”

  
“Oh, lord!” Lily said, downing another shot. She didn’t need Marlene to finish the story. She remembered it clearly. She’d picked up the box on the way out the door, a piece of toast in her mouth — she was exceptionally late that day — and as she tried to close the door, the box slipped from her hands and she remembered stopping, sighing and then just, kicking the box with her feet to her car, smiling passive aggressively at anyone who dared to look at her weirdly.

  
“I mean, not just anyone is that much of a spastic,” Mary said.

  
Lily downed another shot. She’d been a complete and utter moron. She groaned, burying her face in her arms.

  
“Oh, hun, I don’t think that’s the most sanitary thing to do.”

  
“Shut up, I’ve been an idiot I may as well continue to be one,” Lily groaned.

  
“Oh, Lily, you’re not an idiot.”

Lily sat up straight and leaned on her elbows. “I failed to notice I was more or less the main character of a novel and when the author, whom I would actually rather like to shag, told me,” Lily breathed in deep and exhaled into a slump of defeat, “I ran away from him.”

  
“So you were just a bit unobservant,” Marlene waved off. “And James is over the moon for you! He wrote a book about you!”

  
“He didn’t even know me!”

  
“So maybe it was love at first sight,” Mary suggested.

  
“And let’s all hop on the train to Fairy Town!” Lily snapped. “This isn’t a fan fic, Mary!”

  
“Really? Because I posted your little love story on Tumblr and about twenty different people were like ‘tell your friend she’s in a fan fic’. Honestly, it was pretty hilarious. They were tagging the post with all these different tropes and there’s actually a group of people who are pretty interested in the outcome.”

  
“It isn’t a love story!” Lily objected. “And for god’s sake Mary, stop posting my life on Tumblr!”

  
“Oh, re-lax! It’s Tumblr, no one knows who you are! No one even knows who I am! But back to the point. You want to shag him which means you fancy him because you don’t do one night stands and he fancies you so therefore it equals a love story.”

  
“We’re not — we don’t love each other.”

  
Mary turned to Marlene, “I don’t think I can handle any more of this denial.”

  
“It’s not denial! It’s fact.”

  
“If you’re so sure it’s fact why don’t we go to their New Year’s Eve party and ask him?” Marlene suggested.

  
“What? No! I’m not crashing their New Year’s Eve party to prove a point to you two.”

  
“It’s not crashing if you’ve been invited,” Marlene said.

  
“What? James hasn’t invited me! Did you two miss the part about me running away?”

  
Mary rolled her eyes. “It’s not all about you, Lily darling. Marlene here has been shagging Sirius for the last month.” Lily’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Maybe if you weren’t so in looooove with James, you’d have noticed.”

  
Lily was at a stand-still. To refuse to go would be proving them right but to go was to leave it up to the hands of fate. “We haven’t RSVPed.”

  
“That is the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard. No one’s RSVPed since two thousand and ten. Grab your coat!”

  
Dragging her feet, Lily did as she was told and pulled her coat on. The Uber ride to James’ house was filled with Mary and Marlene trying to come up with ingenious ways for Lily to declare her love for James like this really was some bad fan fiction but the truth was, she sat in silence figuring out not how to declare that she was in love with him even though she was sure she was falling for him, but trying to figure out his intentions towards her.

  
Did he fancy her, Lily Evans, editor extraordinaire or did he fancy the girl in the ivy house? The two personas may seem the same but they weren’t, not to Lily because Lily Evans was not without imperfections. She was chronically late and loved too easily, maybe even too deeply. Severus Snape and her sister were the two living proofs of the latter and everyday of her life was proof of the former. She couldn’t reverse park to save her life and sometimes she thought she was too self-involved. Not realising Marlene had been shagging the person she fancied’s best friend was proof of the latter and the scratches on her tires were proof of the former. She talked a lot and loudly. She got way too excited over anything she remotely likes. If she loved a movie at the cinemas — she will pay to watch it again and she won’t shut up about it for the next three weeks. The point wasn’t that she had flaws. Everyone had flaws, it was a part of being human. The point was he needed to accept that about her. That she was her own person and not the girl in the ivy house and not Amelia Hart, but she was Lily Evans. The rest of it, she could forget about as long as he liked her for her and not the girl he’d built up in his head.

  
“Lily! We’re here!”

  
The car doors opened and Lily found herself thanking their driver and getting out of the car only to giggle uncontrollably when she stumbled on a crack in the footpath and fell flat on her ass.

  
“Lily!”

  
“Oh my God! Are you okay?”

  
Mary and Marlene came to help her up as she giggled uncontrollably and as they struggled to get her upright again, they were all laughing so uncontrollably that they didn’t notice someone approach them.

  
“Marlene? I thought you weren’t coming.” Sirius Black stood in a leather jacket and jeans with eyes only for Marlene.

  
She abandoned Lily and skipped over to Sirius. “Hi, babe,” she kissed his lips quickly, “Lily is finally ready to admit she loooves James. She was practicing in the car.”

  
“Marlene,” Lily hissed.

  
“Come on, I’ll show you girls inside. It’s freezing out here.”

  
Lily lagged behind. This was it. This could be the last time she saw James and she’d never see him again or witness him bumble through a sentence or run his hand through his hair. She’d never see the look on his face when the finished copy of his book is presented to him. She’d never see that intense look in his eyes when he looked at her or how he stuck a pen in his hair when he was doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper. He’d never tease her about her abundant Christmas decorating or get that crinkle in his eyes when she did something stupid like spell ‘shoulder’ like ‘soldier’ because she was on her fifth cup of coffee after only four hours of sleep and what were words? And if it wasn’t the last time she saw him, it would mean that he loved her back. She didn’t know which scenario was scarier.

  
And then Sirius was next to her.

  
“You need to let him go.”

  
“What?”

  
“He needs to get over you. He’s getting over you and if you go in there, you’re just going to ruin all the progress he’s made. You had your chance to say something and you ran. You don’t get to come crawling back now. He’s happy,” he gestured inside the apartment and Lily saw him with a girl. She was pretty, blonde, petite and they were wrapped up in each other, probably planning to be each other’s New Year’s kiss and she hated it.

  
She couldn’t go in there now while he was with another girl. She just — she couldn’t because this confirmed theory number one. He didn’t love her, just the idea of her and she didn’t want to be with him if he couldn’t — oh lord, oh lord, here goes nothing. She couldn’t be with him if he didn’t love her like she loved him because who was she kidding? She wasn’t falling anymore. She had fallen and hard like she’d been dropped from the moon and splattered right in front of James Potter’s feet.

  
He looked away from the blonde, towards the door and his eyes met hers. Oh God, she couldn’t. She turned and did what she did best because she couldn’t love him more than he loved her, she couldn’t do that to herself again. She had vowed to herself that the next person she loved, it would be equal. She loved Petunia more than Petunia loved her and nothing good had ever come with that. She loved Snape more than he loved her or else he wouldn’t have asked her to change. She couldn’t love someone more then they loved her even if it was James Potter so she ran.

* * *

He caught the flash of red hair leaving out the front door and did a double take as a weird feeling hit his stomach, his chest, and his entire body. Surely it wasn’t — but Marlene and Mary were by the door so that meant … but she ran off and just as quickly the weird feeling turned into something awful. His head was whizzing with so many thoughts that he didn’t even realise he was in front of Marlene and Mary.

  
“Was that Lily?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“She left.”

  
“I’m guessing she saw you with the trashy blonde,” Mary shrugged.

  
“Hey, I’m blonde,” Marlene frowned, inspecting her ends.

  
“Yeah but not trashy blonde,” Mary said before turning back to James.

  
“Why does she keep running from me?”

  
“That’s not the point,” Marlene said, “The point is do you want to run after her?”

  
Did he? He did and the reason why was a bit muddled between wanting answers and wanting to kiss her senseless but he wanted to. He dashed out the front door, running down the stairs as fast as possible. He managed to catch a glimpse of her again and blessed the fact she was wearing heels.

  
“Evans!” he shouted.

  
“Leave me alone, Potter,” she shouted back as he jumped down the last few steps and the door shut behind her. He pushed it back open in an instant and went after her.

  
“Evans!”

  
“Just go back to your party! This was a mistake.”

  
“Lily, please just wait!” He grabbed her arm and gently turned her around. “Please.”

  
Her deep green eyes stared at him and, “James, please, just forget about me.”

  
He sucked in a breath, “Forget you? Lily, do you really hate me that much? I know I should’ve told you about everything but, please, Lily, I — fuck,” he hissed. She was going to make him say it.

  
“I don’t hate you, James, and that’s the problem.”

  
“Why is that a problem?”

  
“Because.”

  
“Because why?”

  
“Because I’m in love with you!” she exploded. “Because I love you but I can’t!”

  
“You love me?” His head was spinning and she was freaking confusing as hell but she said that she loved him. His soul was doing a victory dance and his heart was hammering from the exertion.

  
“So what?” she said defensively, crossing her arms across her chest.

  
“So I love you too.”

  
She went to turn away, licked her lips and faced him again, “Don’t say that.”

  
“Well why not? It’s true. I love you. I love that you stick pens in your hair and that when you wear it down you go to grab a pen from your hair but nothing’s there. I love that you love Christmas so much. I love that you’re such a creature of habit that you have eaten the same thing for lunch almost every day for as long as I’ve known you. I love that you like your hot chocolate extra chocolatey and I love that scent you wear. I love so many things about you that it’s impossible to list.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Like did you know, that when you read, you smile? Or that you laugh at your own jokes even if they’re lame. Or that you-”

  
“Stop,” she ordered, her finger on his lips. “Please, just stop.”

  
“Why?” he breathed.

  
She looked torn for a moment and then, “God damn it,” and her lips were on his, his hands were on her back feeling every inch that he could and he wanted this so much. He would want this until the end of him, the end of her and the end of time. Her lips were so soft and perfect and sent shivers through his entire body — the good kind, the kind you never wanted to stop. He wanted this so bad but it still wasn’t right.

  
“Lil — Lily, wait,” he pulled away but his arms were still around her waist. “Why did you run?” She looked away from him but he brought her face back to his with his hand. “Why?”

  
“I — fuck this sounds stupid — I can’t love you more than you love me! I’ve been down that road before and it hurts so god damn much that I couldn’t set myself up for that. Not again and not ever. I did it with my sister and Snape and I can’t do it again. I can’t so — so if you only ‘love’ me because you’ve put me up on some Ivy Girl pedestal I can’t do this. I won’t!”

  
“You being the girl in the ivy house was what drew me to you,” James said, “But I fell in love with you because you’re you. You’re more than I ever could have imagined or written or dreamed of.”

She sucked in a breath and her eyes were piercing his, her hand warm on his cheek. “Do you really mean that, James?”

  
“I do.”

  
“I — but I’m your editor and-”

  
“And what? The book is almost done and I’m sure we can work it out because I don’t want to lose you, Lily.”

  
“But how could you have written that book about me! When I read it for the first time, I remember thinking that the sorry-arse author who wrote it had it bad for some girl and you’re trying to tell me that the some girl was me? It can’t be me! I couldn’t have inspired that! And if I did, how could you not have expectations?”

  
James sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Lily, the girl in the book — Amelia — yes she was inspired by your look, your aesthetic but she’s made up. She is fiction. As for you … the only expectation I ever had for you was walking out the front door with a piece of toast between your teeth. Any expectations I may have had have blown to dust since the moment I met you because it was different to the first time I saw you. I could talk to you all of a sudden and you became a person.” She raised her brow at his questionable wording. “I’m explaining this all wrong but it all boils down to … I want to be with you, Lily Evans, not Amelia Hart or the Girl In The Ivy House, not anyone else but you.”

  
“You used the box story,” Lily said.

  
“Huh?”

  
“The box story. I was carrying a box of old clothes and I dropped it and kicked it to my car because I was lazy and holding a billion things. You used it in your book.”

  
“I did,” James confirmed, not sure where she was going with this. What if she found it too weird? “I didn’t know it was old clothes though.”

  
“I know. In your book, Amelia was carrying a box full of dog toys for Danny. I hate dogs.”

  
“Questionable but okay.”

  
“And in your book, Amelia’s favourite flowers are peonies but mine are sunflowers.”

  
“Duly noted.”

  
“And Amelia watches TV with the subtitles. If you ever turn the subtitles on when we’re watching a movie, I’ll personally murder you.”

  
James’ ears pricked. She said ‘we’ as in she can see a future with the both of them in it. “Murder seems a bit of an over reaction.”

  
She shrugged, “I’m dramatic when it comes to movie watching preferences.”

  
James stepped closer. “Oh?”

  
She stepped closer too so they were almost nose to nose, her face looking up at his with a slight smile. “Mm-hm. Like if you’re going to be my boyfriend, snuggling is required.”

  
“I’m your boyfriend now in this scenario,” he teased.

“If you kiss me,” she said seriously.

  
He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her softly, tasting her lips on his and basking in it. They both smiled into the kiss and she whispered, “This is all I could think about since that Halloween party.” He kissed her again, deeper and with more feeling and his whole body was on fire as her hands roamed where they pleased — in his hair, down his back, up his chest, around his arms — and his fingers tingled with anticipation as they snuck underneath her coat.

  
“Hey,” she giggled.

  
“Hands are cold,” he said between kisses.

  
She laughed, “I’m sure that’s the reason.” But she stayed kissing him and didn’t object as his hands explored her body as hers explored his and they broke apart after what felt like an eternity later.

  
“You must be cold,” she said, rubbing his arms which unlike hers were not protected by a coat. “We could go back inside if you wanted?” The idea of being around people had never sounded less appealing. “Or — or we could go back to my house?” she suggested.

  
James grinned, kissed her and said, “Your house it is then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed  
-Natalie xx


End file.
